


A Whole New Red, White and Blue

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art, Barebacking, Come Marking, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Messy, Paint Kink, Painting, Spit As Lube, Teasing, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin tries to paint, Arthur succeeds in making a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whole New Red, White and Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitty_fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/gifts), [shadowofrazia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowofrazia/gifts).



> Written for Kitty and Dom and possibly more people. Inspired by a scene in the film "I Killed My Mother".

Merlin glared at the wall, the red running into the blue, mixing to make a purple that wasn’t quite right. He bit the end of his paintbrush in frustration. He never could get it just how he wanted it. As if his mind was laid bare on the walls, a red splash of anger appeared from nowhere. He took the paintbrush out of his mouth long enough to call Arthur a twat and then desperately tried to blend.

“You’re thinking too hard. Art shouldn’t be hard,” Arthur whispered soothingly at him. 

“It’s alright for you; you throw paint at a wall, hope it sticks and call yourself the next Jackson Pollock. I’m trying to paint something... real?” Merlin sighed, knowing the response that would get.

“It’s a swirl of purple, Merlin, admit it.” Arthur’s hand came up to his shoulder; teasing the nape of his neck and making him shiver. “It’s pretty though. Very _you_.”

Merlin risked glancing backwards knowing if he gave in now, there would be no more painting. “I do like pretty things, don’t I?”

“As do I. But you make it so complicated; life is beautiful as it is. Messy and chaotic – like you, when you’re not painting – beautiful though.” Arthur pulled back and Merlin had to stop himself from following. He knew, deep down, Arthur knew fuck all about art but he had a silver tongue that had been Merlin’s undoing more times than he cared to admit.

Merlin expected Arthur to come back, after a while. Once he had an idea in his head, he wouldn’t drop it. And Merlin could read the ideas he was having like they were written in paint on the walls. He wanted Merlin to give up control for a while, come around to his way of thinking. But what he got wasn’t quite what he expected.

“Take this perfect white shirt of yours, for example.” Arthur’s hand came around to his chest, bright blue and dripping. He pressed his palm over Merlin’s heart and dragged it down; leaving an almost perfect trail of blue behind him. “Made so much better by making a mess of it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Merlin bit his lip. He shouldn’t give in. He shouldn’t let Arthur get his way, not after ruining a perfectly good shirt. But like always, Arthur managed to set something in him alight like he was only tinder to Arthur’s ever so persistent fire.

He dipped his fingers into the red, matching it to Arthur’s personality in a way he doubted Arthur would even notice. He took his fingers and ran them through Arthur’s gold hair before Arthur could duck out of the way.

Arthur surprised him by accepting the retaliation with a laugh. He copied Merlin’s actions, one hand dripping red paint like blood before it grabbed Merlin’s hip, fingers leaving indents and paint leaving a handprint. He didn’t wait for Merlin’s next move. He pushed on, red paint marking white material like some obscene map to his crotch. With the red being Arthur’s colour, it was almost like he’d been claimed. Like Merlin needed the paint to know that.

The game was up now Arthur could feel how hard he was. There would be no teasing him back into submission with names and paint plastered over each other in an attempt to win some petty fight. The fight had been won, Arthur had him. And just as surely, he had Arthur.

He turned in Arthur’s grasp, pushing him back a step so that he could reclaim the space, his hands, dirtied and clean, coming up to Arthur’s face, keeping him still enough to kiss him. For a while that seemed to satisfy Arthur but before long he was back to pulling at Merlin’s once perfect shirt, this time trying to get it off him.

Merlin looked around. All the furniture had been removed so they could paint. All he had were walls and floors. He pushed Arthur down onto his knees on the sheets meant to protect the floors. Arthur reached for Merlin’s zip out of habit, mouth open and waiting but Merlin pushed him down again, following him onto the floor. He didn’t have time to play with him; he still had a wall to finish.

The paint left vague traces everywhere they touched. How they’d explain it away later was beyond him for the moment. All he could do was yank off Arthur’s clothes and help Arthur do the same to him. The paint didn’t come off as easily on skin, or perhaps it had dried, either way, Merlin somewhat missed it. He’d never gotten the chance to mark Arthur back.

With only skin left now, Merlin clawed at it with his red fingers, falling between Arthur’s legs naturally. Arthur pushed his hips up to meet Merlin’s, their cocks trapped together between their bodies, both of them fighting for better friction. Merlin considered reaching a hand between them but with a little nudge, Arthur got the message and did it for him, his blue hand wrapping around Merlin’s cock and ignoring his own. Merlin brought his clean fingers up to Arthur mouth, with his other hand balancing him, he would have returned the favour but he didn’t have a hand to spare.

Arthur took his fingers, sucking them until they were wet as the paint had made them but much hotter. Merlin lifted his hips and raised his eyebrows, prompting Arthur to turn over, all elbows and knees for a moment until he was flat on the floor again. Spreading him open was quick work, a means to an end and with Arthur writhing relentlessly on the floor beneath him, the end was nearly palpable.

As he pushed inside, finally finding the perfection he’d sought in the painting, Arthur’s hands reached out above his head, scrabbling at the sheets protecting the floor, reaching for something he couldn’t grasp. Merlin gave him his hand, red on red, his fingertips brushing paint off Arthur’s knuckles like it was dust.

Each rock of their hips together had Merlin tightening his grip until just Arthur’s hand wasn’t enough. He broke free, scarlet fingertips grabbing at Arthur’s hair, now matted with drying paint. Somehow he directed Arthur’s head, turning him so that they could kiss. That end wasn’t just palatable now, it was upon him and he wanted every bit of Arthur he could get before he came.

He pulled out and pushed himself up on his knees, wishing he could say something funny, something about how painting Arthur’s back with white wouldn’t quite fit into his master plan as he did it anyway. But by the time words could form on his tongue, he found himself on his own back, Arthur straddling him. He barely registered Arthur grinning smugly or the fist furiously jerking Arthur’s cock – Arthur’s own, Merlin supposed – before Arthur’s real master plan became apparent. He left great strokes of white where his shirt had held strokes of blue and red.

“See, Merlin?” he said breathlessly, apparently more determined to make a joke than Merlin had been. “Sometimes messy is better.”

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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